Justice for whom?
by Wendy Stiver
Before exploring the details of this parashah, it is helpful to provide some context. Deuteronomy is the last book of the Torah and indeed brings the story of Moses to a close. The Hebrew title, d’varim, means “words,” drawn from “these are the words” in the first line. These are the words spoken by Moses to all Israel in the fortieth year of their wandering. Moses basically recounted the story thus far to remind the people where they have come from, reiterating the centrality of their covenantal relationship with Adonai, and how they are to organize themselves once they cross into the Promised Land– without Moses.
The English Bible draws the name Deuteronomy from the Greek deuteronomion, or “repetition of the law.” Many of the instructions given throughout the prior books of Moses are revisited, rephrased, and repeated. It is as if Moses was trying to make sure that he taught them well enough, made the law clear enough, explained consequences for disobedience strongly enough, and conveyed the fearsome love of God for the people powerfully enough that the people would have the tools needed to succeed in their new land. Any of us who have sent a child off to college can relate to the repetition of the rules, the values, the numbers to call in case of whatever, the reminders of who they are and whose they are. Moses’ love for his people and for their God is poignantly human.
Given the legalistic, militaristic, and almost managerial tone of Deuteronomy, it is easy to want to move through it quickly and get onto something more interesting, more cinematic, with loftier language. I think that would be a big mistake; Deuteronomy contains some of the most significant “one liners” in the entire Torah:
“Sh’ma, Israel! Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad” 6:4-6, the core and foundation of Israel’s faith, and most important of our prayers.
“Man does not live on bread only but on every word that comes from the mouth of Adonai” 8:3.
“Tzedek, tzedek tirdof” 16:20; Justice, justice shall you pursue.
“I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life” 30:19.
These and other key statements from Deuteronomy will appear in the New Testament as well, and are quoted by Jesus more than he refers to other books of the Torah. This commentary will look at Deuteronomy 16:20 and how the centrality of justice and justice work in Judaism intersect with disability justice.
Deuteronomy chapters 12-26 are collectively known as the Deuteronomy Code, a collection of ancient Hebraic law solidifying the covenantal relationship between God and Israel, detailing matters of civil and criminal law, treatment of slaves and the marginalized, rules of warfare, cities of refuge, and the dangers of sorcerers and their ilk. An overarching theme of this book is the juxtaposition of blessings and curses, life and death: if the people kept the Covenant, followed the mitzvot as delineated by Moses, God would bless them with bountiful harvests and success in battle. If they chose otherwise, God would curse them. In other words, Moses is telling the Israelites that they have a choice to make as they enter the Promised Land.
Shoftim
This parashah serves as a practical instruction manual for how to bring the nation of Israel together after long decades of wandering and struggle. We are taught that God expects us to seek justice, to govern justly, and to be partners with God in repairing the world. Think of the language in Moses’ teaching: he did not make nice suggestions; he gave clear action-verb instructions: listen, hear, behold, pursue. Taylor (2026, 35) points out that “historically, Judaism has resisted the separation of idea from act. The Torah presents itself not as a theoretical treatise but as a corpus of narratives and laws in which memory and practice are interwoven. This interweaving teaches Judaism as an embodied practice”.
The command “Justice, justice shall you pursue” (16:20) is not just a moral guideline, the text gives it some “teeth” to make it real: thorough investigation of crimes, guidelines for the creation of “cities of refuge” for those who committed involuntary manslaughter, the importance of ethical behavior by kings and other leaders, and the central role of judges to interpret and apply the laws of Torah. Studying this text, given the current political climate in many nations (including mine), is rather ironic: kings are not to profit from their positions, are to follow the laws of Torah, and are to model other manifestations of upright moral behavior. Do we “cherry pick” which instructions from Deuteronomy we want to follow? Is it all just a quaint story about our past? Is Moses still speaking to us thousands of years after he spoke these words?
We have heard a great deal in recent years about the rules of warfare, i.e. rules of engagement and definitions of war crimes. Shoftim strikes me as the rules of engagement for the Israelites, with the requirement to offer terms of peace before attacking a city, the prohibition against cutting down a fruit tree when laying siege, and when to exempt men from battle if they are newly married, afraid, or other criteria.
Despite these features that seem progressive for the time, Deuteronomy includes chilling instructions to the conquering Israelites to kill all the men, and take all the women and children, livestock, and anything they find as spoils of war when taking a city (20:14). These instructions are not unique to the time or place of ancient Israel: we see the same evils being enacted and re-enacted in war zones from the Middle East to Ukraine to the Sudan and beyond. We are horrified by the use of rape and sexual violence as strategies of warfare practiced by combatants in 2026, yet doesn’t this passage seem to suggest that such sexual violence was part of the covenantal playbook? For those of us who are survivors, how do we read this and other misogynistic texts?
Given the seeming overlapping of violence against women, misogyny, the domination system, “otherism,” and so many “curses” we both commit and have done unto us, I ask what happened to our role in pursuing justice? Have we become immune to seeing the injustices committed in our name? Are we obligated to pursue justice only for our own tribe, and not for the “other”? Is justice only for the winners?
What about those of us who are disabled? What does justice look like for us?
This question leads us to an exploration of the growing literature surrounding disability justice. To begin, I ask that each of us take a few minutes to stop and think about how you interpret Deuteronomy 16:20 in your life, and how any disabilities may inform your interpretation of justice. Justice looks different if you are poor, in a wheelchair, and can’t find accessible housing that you can afford.
What is disability justice?
Amy Kenny speaks truth to any and all who try to deny, demonize, dehumanize, and isolate the disabled as the ugly ‘others’ relegated to institutions. She teaches that “in reality, we (the disabled) display the prophetic witness of what is true for all humans. All bodies are interdependent and fragile; ours just make it more evident. All humans bear the image of God” (2022, 59).
She continues, “disability justice affirms the unique qualities and knowledge of each body-mind. It stresses that no body–disabled or otherwise–is inherently worth more than another….all bodies have needs that must be met without shame. The disability justice movement is built on the premise that all bodies must move together to thrive, so that no person is left behind” (2022, 59). Disability justice recognizes the imago Dei in each of us, regardless of our ability to walk or what language we speak, the color of our skin, how we pray, or whom we love.
So to bring us back to Deuteronomy 16:20, disability justice would ask that we pursue justice for everybody. Given this perspective, what does disability justice say about other passages in this parashah that make us a bit theologically squirmy?
The Bible has numerous examples of disabled people playing pivotal roles in the story of our people: Isaac became blind, Jacob left his wrestling encounter with a mobility challenge, Moses stuttered, Elijah was depressed, and so on. God did not view these people as any less valuable or able to help achieve the divine goals on earth. God didn’t instruct the nation of Israel to set up nice, neat institutions to house the disabled, as has been advocated at various times in U.S. history.
If we are made in the image of God, as we are taught in Genesis, does this mean that God is blind, lame, depressed, or afflicted by any other of the disabilities that humans can experience? Or is God “big” enough, loving enough, and wise enough to include all of us within Herself? God created all and declared it good: who are we to impose value judgments or labels on any bodies, thereby imposing external critiques of God’s creative plan?
Sins Invalid
Finally, I want to lift up the radically powerful work of Sins Invalid. Sins Invalid is a movement-building and performance project that celebrates and is led by a diverse group of people with disabilities, of many racial and sexual identities, ages, and genders. All bodies are celebrated as whole and beautiful, and this wholeness is a source of power and freedom. Given that Judaism has a tradition of talking back to tyrants, this emphasis on inclusion as a prerequisite for freedom of all is consistent with our commitment to justice.
Over its 20-year history, Sins Invalid has developed the 10 Principles of Disability justice, which include Intersectionality, Leadership of the most impacted, Anti-capitalist politics, Cross-Movement Solidarity, Recognizing Wholeness, Collective Liberation, and more. For further study, please refer to https://sinsinvalid.org/10-principles/.
Conclusion
As we enter the month of Elul and prepare to look at ourselves in the ethical and behavioral mirror, I ask us to also look at ourselves in the mirror of “justice, justice, you shall pursue.” Did we do so? How did we define justice on a daily basis? How do we follow this command as we move into election season? How do we weave together concepts of disability justice and the concepts of justice in the America of 2026 and beyond?
Thank you.
References
Kenny, A. (2022). My Body is Not a Prayer Request: Disability Justice in the Church. Brazos Press.
Taylor, S. (Winter 2026). A Judaism of Doing: Religious practice is not supposed to be convenient. SAPIR: Ideas for a thriving Jewish future. Volume 20, Winter 2026.
Wendy Stiver (she/her) has been a registered nurse since 1981, and disabled since 2014. Currently she is a Research Scholar in Human Trafficking and Co-Leader of the Translational Research Workgroup in the Global Association of Human Trafficking Scholars, and has published numerous blogs and books in this topic. She is active in both the Keeping It Sacred and St. Hildegard's Community.
